


And When I'm Feeling Low, Takes Me to Paradise

by tuesdaymidnight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Dry Humping, Fluff, Frottage, Humor, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, conversations about toes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:25:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/pseuds/tuesdaymidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles get high and then lazily make out and dry hump. That's it. That's the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And When I'm Feeling Low, Takes Me to Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [donnersun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnersun/gifts).



> This is a [Mating Games](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Mating_Games) entry that I expanded for [donnersun](http://archiveofourown.org/users/donnersun). Because it's her birthday today. And I promised her I would write this about a million years ago.

“Is there enough for another bowl?”

Scott squinted at what was mostly stems and seeds left in the baggie. “Maybe a hit? Got any papers? Could do a spliff.”

“Nah.” It was mostly a lie, but Stiles wasn't about to go _all_ the way into his bedroom to dig out his Zig-zags. It would require going upstairs and shit.

“You can have it,” Scott said, passing Stiles the bowl, which was indeed woefully less than half full.

Stiles shook his head. “Nuh uh, this was my gift to you. I'm not going to be greedy. Come 'ere, dude.”

Understanding his intent, Scott scooted over across the couch cushion. “You know this barely does anything for the blowee, right?” Scott giggled. “Blowee.”

“I'll blow your E,” Stiles retorted.

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“You don't make any sense.”

Stiles stopped the conversation with a flick of his lighter and lit the weed, inhaling the smoke through the pipe. It tasted a little off because of the herb they added for Scott to get high, but it was totally worth it to be able to smoke up with his best friend again. He gathered the smoke in his mouth then leaned over toward Scott. He covered Scott's lips with his own, and then exhaled to share the smoke between them. Stiles pushed his tongue into Scott's mouth after he breathed out, and they shared a slow, languid kiss to chase the last remnants of smoke. 

The bowl was cashed, so they both flopped back against the couch and put their feet up side by side on the coffee table.

“Your feet are weird,” Scott said after a minute of staring at them.

“No they aren't. _Your_ feet are weird.” It wasn't Stiles' best comeback, but, meh. Everyone had off days.

“But your second toe is taller than your big toe,” Scott insisted.

“S'not weird,” Stiles huffed. “It's totally normal. It's called Morton's toe.”

“Your toe's named Morton?” Scott started giggling again. This time Stiles couldn't help but join in. Because Morton.

“Wait. If that one's named Morton, what's the other one named?” Stiles wondered. He looked at his left foot and then his right, wiggling his toes. “Maybe it's Morton Jr.”

“Junior? But wouldn't they be twins?” Scott asked.

“Maybe Morton and Mortonina?”

“One of your toes is a girl toe?”

“Why couldn't my toe be a girl toe?”

“It's weird. It's like calling your dick a girl's name. Would you name your dick Stilesette?”

“Why not? What do you call your dick?”

“Little Scott,” Scott answered as if it were obvious. 

Stiles scoffed at the unoriginality, though, he wasn't exactly surprised. Scott had named the turtle he'd gotten when he was nine 'Mr. Turtle'. 

“What, not Scotty? Beam me up an orgasm, Scotty. Warp speed, Scotty.”

Scott grinned. “See, you can't say stuff like that with Stilesette.”

“Well, why couldn't Little Scott be a girl's name?”

“What are you talking about? It couldn't be a girl. Not like Stilesette. Everyone would know Little Scott was a boy. Just like Stilesette is definitely a girl.” Scott seemed proud of his logic. 

But Stiles hadn't been paying attention. There were other, more pressing matters at hand. “Oh, fuck you. Now I'm starting to get hard.” Stiles gestured to the growing situation in his shorts. 

“Seriously, dude? Do you get hard any time someone says 'dick'?”

“What can I say?” Stiles shrugged. “Stilesette knew you were talking about her.”

“Aw, she likes it when I talk about her.” Scott reached his hand over and cupped Stiles' dick. He pet it as he cooed, “Don't you, Stilesette?”

“Stop teasing my dick.” Stiles weakly tried to bat Scott's hand away, though he didn't actually want Scott to stop with the petting. If anything he wanted heavier petting. 

“I was just saying hello!” 

“Well, now either you're going to have to do more than say hello or I'm going to have to do something about it, because I'm not going to sit here with a boner for the rest of the afternoon.” He lifted his hips enough to shove down his shorts and kick them off. Then he reached his hand down the front of his briefs and grabbed his dick. 

“Stop it,” Scott said, his eyes trained on Stiles' crotch. “If I have to watch you jerk off, then it'll make me hard and I'll have to jerk off.”

“We wouldn't want that now, would we, Scotty?” Stiles said with a smirk, far too pleased knowing the effect he had on Scott. 

“Fine,” Scott said, still watching Stiles' hand moving under the fabric of his briefs.

Then Scott, with Herculean effort, kicked off his own shorts until he was just in his boxers. Instead of going for Stiles' cock with his hand, he threw his leg over to straddle Stiles' lap. He put his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Stiles' head for leverage, then pressed his hips down and moved them slowly forward. 

“That better?”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles said as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. 

Scott's cock started to get hard as he rubbed against Stiles. The cotton between them gave them friction that helped along the process. Scott rolled his hips slowly, watching the fabric bunch and stretch with his motions. 

“Yeah,” Stiles groaned. “Right there.”

Scott leaned forward and nuzzled into Stiles' neck, partly because Stiles smelled really good, but mostly because holding his head up was a lot of work. 

“Tickles,” Stiles laughed. “You're all furry.” 

“Werewolf jokes, dude?”

“S'not my fault you get fur-face! And why are you stopping?”

Scott licked sloppily up Stiles neck in retaliation. 

Stiles grabbed Scott's ass in both his hands, and urged him to go faster, keeping him focused on the mission at hand. It worked for a minute. Just as Stiles was starting to feel like an orgasm was within sight, Scott stopped.

“I'm doing all the work here.”

“But you're the one with the superpowers,” Stiles insisted. 

“Yeah, but I am so not low right now.”

Stiles laughed. “So it's working?”

“It's totally working. I feel like we're floating in a bubble of cotton candy.”

“Wouldn't that be sticky?” Stiles wondered, scrunching is face.

“What's wrong with sticky? The best things are always sticky.”

“Whoa,” Stiles said, looking at Scott in awe. “You're right.”

“Candy,” Scott said.

“Weed,” Stiles added.

“Ice cream.”

“Fingers.”

“Sex,” Scott replied, leaning over and tugging on Stiles. The intent seemed to be to get onto his back on the couch with Stiles on top of him, but the laws of physics were not on Scott's side. 

They toppled off the couch. There was a crunching noise as Scott's elbow hit the ground

“Noooooo...” Stiles wailed. “Man down! man down!”

“Not the Doritos,” Scott gasped. 

“Reduced to crumbs,” Stiles said sadly. “We should honor them.”

“How do we do that?” Scott rolled over as he asked, brushing his thigh against Stiles' dick, which made Stiles remember why they were having the conversation in the first place.

“Sex now. Honoring the fallen later.”

“K,” Scott agreed. 

Scott was still on top, but this way at least Stiles could move a little, lifting his hips up to meet Scott's. They didn't get a steady rhythm going, but it was enough to get the job done for Stiles. They kissed a little more, partly for another point of contact and partly because Scott said his tongue felt funny and Stiles decided that investigating with his tongue was the only solution. As they kissed, Stiles ran a hand through Scott's hair, which drove Scott crazy, causing him to speed up his thrusting. 

“Fuck, Scotty,” Stiles moaned when he was getting close. 

Scott felt Stiles tense underneath him. He smelled the come before Stiles closed his eyes, arched his back, and groaned with relief. He took a few slow breaths as his heart rate slowed. When he opened his eyes again, they were glassy and bloodshot, but oh so content. 

“Want me to finish you off?” Stiles waggled his fingers in Scott's face. Without letting Scott answer, Stiles licked his hand, and reached into Scott's boxers, grabbing his throbbing cock and stroking up, twisting his wrist. 

Scott shuffled forward on his knees for a better angle. Once he had it, he fucked into Stiles' hand, until he was spurting into Stiles' hand, his boxers, and on Stiles shirt. Scott fell forward on top of Stiles.

“Ugh, you're too heavy, bro.” Stiles half-heartedly shoved at Scott's shoulder.

Scott made a whining noise and rolled off Stiles', nearly missing kneeing him in the groin before lying down beside him on the carpet, basking in the warm feeling tingling in his whole body.

“Little Scott happy now?” Stiles rolled his head to look over at Scott. 

“Very,” Scott said with a sigh. “We should go get tacos.”

“Dorito tacos.” Stiles said it like a revelation.

“Fuck yeah,” Scott replied. “Think they'll let us walk through the drive-thru again?”

“If Greenberg's working they will.”

“We should get licorice, too,” Stiles added. “And Milkduds.”

“Yesssss,” Scott said as he searched around for his jeans. “That's why I love you, bro.”

“Aw, Scotty. Love you too, dude.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Rick James' "Mary Jane." For obvious reasons.


End file.
